Wine of the Gods 03: The Black Goats (29 page)

"We're a growing community, it's time we had a school." Harry informed them. "For now, it's just all these toddlers, but there's twenty-seven of them, and then nine new babies. We all know how much work babies are, and we need a safe place for them to play while their mothers work. Otherwise we'll all starve next year."

Nobody could argue with that. They had broken ground for new fields, and planted almost double the acreage they'd worked just two years ago. Harvest was going to require every man and woman in the valley. And then there was haying. They had a ridiculous number of horses, and they'd bought, instead of sold, cattle. They planned to send all but the milk cows and two teams of horses with the sheep when Question moved them to the southern pastures after shearing. For now, they were turning the late thaw into a muddy quagmire.

Beck groused, "You witches ought to have been having babies right along, so you had some old enough to work."

Answer snorted. "I haven't noticed too many children between one and twelve around the farms."

Lady Gisele cackled. "You were all so busy planning the next generation's blood lines you nearly forgot to make them."

They all tried to glare and wound up shuffling their feet.

"So." Harry said. "A school."

They were clearing ground and moving rock when the wagon pulled up. The gaudily dressed Traveler driving the team climbed down stiffly and goosed a witch.

Justice whipped around ready to . . . throw her arms around him. "You, you . . . you've been gone forever! You . . . " she stopped to kiss him again. "Get over to the sheep pens and assist your daughter who is attempting to shear them."

The Sheep Man grinned, kissed her again and climbed back in the wagon.

Three young boys had appeared and already joined with Fiber and Piph in some sort of running and wrestling game, and two young men on horseback turned to follow the wagon, three foals bouncing along behind.

"Goodness, worse than Harry." she muttered.

"No one is worse than Harry," the Sheep Man called back.

***

Dydit felt like he'd come home.

Who'd have thought he'd miss sheep.

In human form, he'd taken the mixed herd down to the southern pastures.  In goat form he'd persuaded some wolves that it still wasn't safe to even think about nibbling on the Ash herds. 

Nil was searching for just the right spot to raise a Wizard's tower.

Ni
l's daughter Question—who was the scariest thing Dydit'd ever looked sideways at—as well as Lefty and Dydit, needed more training, he said. Lefty had waffled, and redrawn his maps and ridden off to Fort Stag as soon as the Engineering brigade moved back in. Dydit suspected he'd be back.

He shifted and watched Nil, Justice and Question. They were working with the young horses. Dydit had laughed himself breathless when Question told him about the Inquisitor General. He'd known when Maleth died, but not how it had happened. Killed by a woman! A Virgin of Ba'al! Oh, it was enough to make him swear off Ba'al's virgins forever. In thanks, not fear.

And he was not going to have anything to do with the young witches. Two new girls, outsiders with talent, had looked him over. They weren't virgins, so they weren't too dangerous, but he really didn't think it was a good idea, anyway. The two virgin witches were definitely off limits. He had managed, so far, to avoid Never altogether. If he could keep it up long enough . . .

The other wizards walked up the hill to where he reclined in the grass.

"I think we'll put the tower on the south end of the West Ridge." Nil told him. "That way we can keep an eye on the herds, move them south earlier."

Dydit sat up and stared across the little valley they were in at the moment. The south end of the ridge was . . . "Over there? You know, Wizard's Towers are supposed to be in remote areas, hard to reach. Not conveniently placed for rotating pastures around. Ash is going to spread out a lot more, isn't it?"

"Probably triple the amount of land the village uses even for grazing." Question studied him. As a goat he'd always avoided her, all of them had. Common sense or Nil? "We're going to have a proper horse farm."

Dydit smirked at Nil. "What is with you and horses? I'm beginning to suspect you have an Equine Perversion. Breeding the Inquisitor General's horse to every mare in the valley? Mind you, a couple of the foals are outstanding, but . . . "

"Me?" Nil looked innocent. "I thought you . . . "

Justice sent him a quelling look. Then blushed and smiled.

Dydit remembered her, all right. Her mother had started playing with the goats' power and paid the price. By the smell of her daughter, Mon Sant had won the toss. Huh, so Question was three-quarters wizard. He looked enviously at the pair of them. No one had ever looked at him like that—even when they'd had that wine.

Maybe he'd go into town for dinner and chat up . . . Urk! Maybe he should stick to the mage girls.
Or avoid women altogether.

"In any case," Justice frowned at Nil, "I believe you said something about the King wanting to find the rest of the goats. Three are dead, what of the other five?"

"One is accounted for. The Org brothers and Neet are still at large." Nil hunched a shoulder. "Why are they my responsibility? I really don't want to go away again so soon."

"And you'd better get back in time for the haying." Justice said. "I'd never realized how hard it could be without a wizard to do the cutting."

Dydit looked at Nil, raising eyebrows.

Nil shook his head. "You stay here. We don't want any unfortunate accidents."

Justice narrowed her eyes.

Nil shook his head again. "I'd better be the only other wizard around. Apparently Bran and Oscar can spot them, and I suspect that Storm Mage can as well.
It's not like I let them go on purpose, but I'll head for Karista and see what they have in mind."

***

The Six Virgins of Love were doing excellent business. The shrine of the God of Love was pulling in donations right and left, as they spread the Joy of Sex and Procreation to all who came to the new temple to worship. The city councilors had left them alone since the memorable day they'd come to complain about the false claims they said the temple virgins were spreading.

"And you are rather obviously not virgins." The obnoxious Mayor Danefek had said looking down her nose at their pregnant bellies while her weedy secretary scribbled notes as he followed in her wake.

Rain, their spokesvirgin had explained that they'd had sex with the Goat of Love, not a man, and were therefore still virgins. Several of the other Council members, both male and female, had snickered about that.

Ah, their tune had changed when they'd tasted the ever-sacred wine.

The Virgins had discovered that so long as they never actually ran out, refilling The Bottle rendered all the wine poured into it sacred.

After the City Council had finished their orgy, they'd dressed and departed, and never returned, nor had they ever again spoken of the temple. The Major and two women Councilors were currently taking rather long vacations.

And now it was time. Sleet kissed the goat statue in the center of the temple, as her sister virgins finished putting the babies to bed.

Wind hugged her. "They're posting notices all over town about the public presentation of the Prince."

Dust hustled in, veils in hand. "I just heard she had no problems with the delivery at all, just like the others."

The Palace Orgy had resulted in, at last count, three hundred and five babies. Probably more, some women weren't admitting that they'd been there. Some were claiming prior pregnancy, to avoid any charges of adultery or illegitimacy, which was pretty funny, seeing as how everyone had been fucking everyone else, in plain sight of everyone.

The Emperor had given large gifts to all the pregnant serving women, practically every one in the Palace, when he dismissed them. The money had enabled most of them to find husbands or start businesses. The six dancers had founded the temple. Or rather, were trying to figure out how to properly rededicate an old temple. Who knew how old the structure was, it was of sound enough construction to last centuries, so perhaps it had. Now that they'd scrapped the paint off the exterior, and let the marble show through, it certainly looked like a temple.

The Sacred Wine had brought the blessings of sex and pregnancy to hundreds since.

And now it was time for the cycle to start again. Time to summon the God of Love Himself.

They lit the candles and the incense, and as the sun set, they danced. Wearing not very much, beyond the veils that floated and clung at will, the tiny bells and chimes, and the thumping of their bare feet kept time to their love songs. And a fog flowed over the floor of the temple, pulsing with their songs and stirred by their feet. It
flowed, and they sprinkled the sacred wine on it, and drank, as the mist pulled into a tower and shrank and solidified into a man.

"Oh, long grief for what is lost,

But now the reawakening,

True love can never die."

Rain paused in her dancing to kiss him, then whirled back into the dance. This incarnation was tall, broad shouldered and handsome, dark haired and blue eyed. One by one the Virgins kissed him and then they pulled him into the dance he knew by instinct, pausing now and again with each Virgin in turn as the others wove their veils about them. At first kissing, and then embracing, and as they partook of wine, finally laying them on the altar and making long satisfying love to them, one by one. And finally, having satisfied his worshipers, The God of Love donned clothing, and swept the Virgins a low bow and flourish with his plumed hat.

He pulled his horse out of thin air, and rode off.

"The path of True Love is rocky,

But I will find the way."

***

It took the entire trip from Karista to Ferris Province for Oscar to get used to the Sheep Man being all cleaned up, unsmelly, and possessed of an actual name.

The retired General Negue was pleased to see them.

"Bit of a quandary, y'see." He shrugged. "Those goat creatures were apparently raping their way through every female in the household and surrounding countryside. I know its not the women's fault, although not coming down hard on immoral servants is contrary to good discipline in a household, but what am I to do in this case? There are six women with child or delivered in the last few months, who claim that those things are the only possible fathers. What sort of monsters are these children?"

"Hmm," The King's Mage turned to the Sheep Man, "Nil, you're the scholar here."

Nil shrugged innocently. "The Black Goats of Scoone are so ancient they are practically mythical. They are believed to be the leaders of a coup against one of the Wizard Kings of Ancient Scoone. The Wizard King is said to have turned the traitors into Black Goats of incredibly evil appearance."

"I'll say." The General muttered, "You should have seen the pizzles on the two Rufi's men killed." He nodded acknowledgment to Oscar and Bran where they stood being good soldiers and pretending they weren't listening.

"I've got them in my rooms." the Storm mage pointed out. "The King thinks that stuffing them like the Temple did with theirs would be in poor taste."

The General chuckled. "I've heard about their display. Is it actually, er, in the act of leaping upon the Inquisitor General?"

"It's very effective theatre. Although the manikin that purports to be the Inquisitor General is rather better looking than the real thing." Seleno said, "But, these babies?" He looked to the Sheep Man.

"As the true essence of the goats is human, the babies are human. Now, the goats may be wizards themselves. Fortunately, wizardry, like the mage power, tends to
run in intermarried families, half wizards like these babes shouldn't have much power. However, our knowledge of wizardry is so old and incomplete, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on these children."

Well, the Sheep Man always had been a talker. Clean him up and he really sounded like an expert. Oscar wondered if he'd overlooked a fourth member of the old gods. he leaned over to Bran, and barely breathed. "Sight."

Bran looked puzzled, but moving slowly and casually, managed to puncture his finger and reach casually over and touch Oscar's eye.

It watered with the effort to not blink, and through the tears, he could see the bluish tinge of the old storm mage and the glittering silver and gold aura around the Sheep Man. Bran was bl
uish too. The old general had a bit of shine, more than normal people, but not in a class with the mages and wizards.
Maybe he's one of these half wizards, himself?

The elders were talking now about moving the pregnant women to
Karista, and recent sightings of the goats, or Rivolte's people, of which there hadn't been any.